


Blood Masterpiece

by Megane



Category: Adekan
Genre: Case Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Mysterious Circumstances, Reunion, Suspicious Items
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1791913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suspicious smells send Kojiro on another dangerous goosechase, and he ends up going after...!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mystery Begins

It had been some months since that incident. Oh there were so many, which one was this again? Oh right! The incident of the self-acclaimed gung ho Father and the convicts and orphans he took in, the mysterious serial murders, and the ‘copper god’. An interesting turn of events, really. There was someone at that 'sanctuary' who was a quiet artist. An unremarkable person from that description alone, but truly he was friendly and a very warm presence in such a strange place. After his rather odd 'friend' died, that artist’s entire demeanor changed, and he left the sanctuary, muttering words that he was going to pursue another career. And then, he was gone.

 

Yes, it had been some months since then. The young officer had many cases for sometime after, and his strange partner in all of this had been _some_ help—in his own special way. The officer, Kojiro, lifted his cap and ran his fingers through his short black hair before settling his cap back on. He sighed and brought his hands together; other officers around him clamoured loudly: some discussed cases, others just being loud out of their own volition. He was used to it, but it still was a bit much, regardless. He thought that – he _always_ thought that – but he never made any real fuss about it.

               “We got another complaint about 'strange smells,'” said a portly chief officer, holding up a piece of paper.

               “That’s like the third one in two months, right,” Saburouta turned his head, glancing up.

               “Somethin’ like that...” grumbled the other man, knowing the spiky haired law official was… well, way off. “People've been complaining in that time that their houses have strange smells in them. Saying they've called people to get rid of it but nothing's working. We can try to dispatch a few people to see what it is, but it’s probably nothing.”

               “I’ll go,” volunteered a tall upstart, seeming uncomfortably eager. “I mean, if we can’t do small stuff like this, how can they trust us with the bigger things?”

               “Shut up, Yorujima,” came a flat response from Saburouta.

               He laughed, placed a hand on his hip, and shifted his weight. “What? I’m _serious_. Besides, it’s just a strange smell. How bad can that be?”

Silence settled in the room.

               “Maybe it’s the wife!" He continued. "You know how women like their fancy perfumes. What if she knocked it over but didn’t tell anyone – so the whole room smells a bit funny?”

               Another officer piped up. “Ah, but that’s strange, isn’t it?" "Groups of women knocking over their perfume and then hiding it in secret? They all can’t be that clumsy.”

               Another male countered: “Aah, but they can! Isn’t that their appeal? Shy, dainty women with a streak of — geh!”

               Someone punched him at the top of his head. “That’s not true at all! And wipe that smile off your face, you creep!”

               “Besides, some of these reports are coming from single men,” reported a deep voiced official. “There’s no way that could be true.”

               “What if it’s a body?" Saburouta tipped his head, placing his chin in his hand. "With all of the murder cases we get around here, I wouldn’t be surprised if these people all had bodies stashed away somewhere near by.”

               “Oh! So you’ll have 'dead bodies', but you won’t believe in clumsy — geh!”

               Everyone else proceeded on. “That could be _possible_. Someone’s going on a spree and stashing away corpses on other people’s property.”

               “But what could they have to gain?”

               “Property isn’t cheap these days," the initial, portly officer stated. Everyone looked to him. :It’s easier to have a home you can run a business out of, but if you want to live in luxury, this is a way to do it.”

               “I’ll go too then,” Kojiro stated as the others agreed, placing his hands on the table and calmly standing up. “It’s possible that it might be nothing. Someone new might have moved into the district, but if it is as extreme as you propose, it’s best we look into it while we have the chance now.”

               “Right, well,” said the chief. “You all seem to be eager to get to it then. I’ll send four of you out there. If you need more, come back ASAP.”

               “Right!” said the room in unison.

Yorujima nodded his head, feeling slightly annoyed at Kojiro. He kept it to himself though if only because he and Kojiro were two among the four officers who were picked to split up over town. The reports were simple. “Ever since I brought home my new kimono, I noticed a strange smell.” "The only thing that's really changed is that my father brought home a new kimono." "We've a new garment airing out in the backyard, but we can't figure out what happened between buying it at the shop and setting it up here at home." All this about new kimonos? It really was nothing then.

To the owners, Kojiro suggested they try washing the garments again and leaving them outside for a couple of days. "It was probably made from older, musty material," Yorujima consoled, agreeing with his partner. And to the others who had more worrisome complaints, Kojiro advised getting in touch with younger relatives who can check their property for them, and possibly ask their neighbors if they were having the same troubles. It was easy, a bit repetitive, and strange, but stranger still was the fact that others came back with similar complaints: either new kimonos or untraceable locations.

 

The four officers met up after their scouting and began to walk back towards their office. They shared notes, trying to get some ideas from one another, but they all came to the same conclusion.

               “Did anyone ask about where they bought their kimonos?” the smallest officer asked.

               “I wanted to, but everyone admired 'the fine stitch work and the colour choices.' I couldn’t get a word in edgewise after that!” Saburouta complained, shaking his head slowly.

               “I did,” Yorujima perked up, index finger extended. “They say the ordered from Classical Tapestry, a new dye shop across from Kanage Dragons.” He curled his fingers, lurching forward a bit. The other three leaned back somewhat. The wispy haired official straightened his posture. “So after my report, I’ll probably stop by there and ask some questions.”

He smiled, feeling pretty damn proud of himself for filtering through enough rambling to get the leads he wanted. Kojiro stared at the other officer and then sighed through his nose, adjusting his hat.

               “Good job, Yorujima. We’ll leave that work to you then.” He looked around, trying to judge the time by the current traffic. _He_ should be up and about by now, right…? Probably not. “Let us know what you’ve found.”

               A beat of silence. “Sure. Of course.”

They split up after their reports; the case earned the interest of a particular chief officer, but there was nothing they could do to avoid that. Capturing Saotome's interest was bound to happen, unfortunately. Kojiro walked back towards the houses he interrogated, looking around for any sort of clue. He left Yorujima to the fat of the work, which was investigating that dye shop. Kojiro thought to go along, in case something happened. He stopped in the middle of the road and crossed his arms. He tipped his head down and gazed at his feet. Yeah, he probably should have tagged along. Strange things always seemed to happen in this town, but maybe somebody else accompanied him. Maybe nothing’ll happen.

…

He was better off hoping for the first one.

He started moving again, deciding to stop off and get some tea. Yeah, that would be best while he mulled this all over. He walked over to an outdoor shop and sat in the stool.

               “Milk tea, please,” he ordered, taking off his hat and setting it on the bar.

               “Yessir.”

After a while, the milk tea was set down in front of him, steaming hot, and his server stepped aside. Kojiro turned the cup towards himself, bringing it closer to his person. A pale elbow dropped to the left of his drink, and more milk was added to his tea.

               “I never took you for the childish type, Officer,” came the lazy, familiar voice.

               An eyebrow twitch. “I never took you for a tea shop owner.”

               “And I never will be.” Shiro set the decanter filled with milk down on the counter. “It’s too tiresome for me.”

               “And yet you’re here serving me,” Kojiro muttered, staring up at Shiro as he stood to his full height. The pesky umbrella maker set his hand down next to the decanter. “Why are you here anyway?”

               “Friend of an acquaintance invited me for tea and dinner.”

               “Found you passed out in the street again?”

               “Surprisingly no,” Shiro muttered, checking his nails – his dull, dirty nails. “They invited me for an arrangement. They wanted me to make wedding accessories.”

               Kojiro smiled and brought his cup up to his lips. “I’m proud of you. Actually considering an honest day’s work.”

               “It was either that or just marry them. They insisted on doing the work they loved, so I considered doing that instead.”

Kojiro choked on his tea. He slammed down the cup, stood up hastily, and grabbed Shiro by his already sloppy kimono. The officer grit his teeth, slowly pulling the thinner male closer to his form.

               “Marriage?”

               “Yes.”

               “Can you handle that?”

               “A doting spouse who works to boot? Sounds like a life for me.”

               “Sounds like a life for a common wife.”

               Shiro turned his head with an interested hum. “Could it be you’re jealous, Officer?”

               “…Jealous?”

               “That I’m someone else’s bride and not y—”

               Kojiro pulled him again, bringing their faces closer so he could murmur, “If you continue that sentence, I’ll charge you with endangering a police officer.”

               “Ooh? And how will I be charged of that?”

Without taking his eyes off this troublesome man, the taller male pointed his finger to his cup of tea, tapping it meaningfully with the nail of his index finger.

               “That milk is no good,” Kojiro said in a firm yet dead tone.

               Shiro tipped his head away. “Well, they told me to dispose of it.”

               “You’re a pretty wife, but you’re absolutely useless.”

               “Is everything alright?” came a chiming voice.

               “Yes, it’s all okay,” Kojiro stated, seating himself after letting go of his unfortunate acquaintance.

               “Just fine, darling,” the umbrella maker said charmingly, if only to dig the point further into Kojiro’s head.

The officer wondered what charge he could haul the brunet off on as he stared, sipping his milk tea gingerly. Shiro stared off at the other tea worker, probably the owner. His thin fingers twitched with life against the countertop for a few brief seconds.

               “So I guess you’ve heard, if you’re in this area.”

               Kojiro stared at his cup, watching the surface ripple as he set it down. He gave a noncommittal grunt.

               Shiro sighed, tipping his head to his upraised shoulder. “It’s strange, isn’t it? This weird smell thing.”

               “It’s not like you to care, you know.”

Shiro went silent for a minute and then smiled, sitting up straight. His hand slid across the counter as he drew it towards himself.

               “You’re right. Getting tangled up with you has got me interested in the well-being of others.” He hummed and ran his fingers through his hair, turning his head away. “That’s no good at all, is it?”

               Kojiro smiled. “Ah, I don’t think that’s bad at all.”

               “Of course you wouldn’t, _Officer_.” Shiro flicked his hair, turning away from the older man. “It’s just that soft heart of yours doesn’t find much fault in anything, right?”


	2. A Common Lead

The older woman recanted her story softly. Having those eyes on her made her uncomfortable, but she tried her best to power through it. A hand came to rest on her shoulder. She looked up to see a smiling officer, who offered to escort her back to her house. She thanked him and followed him out of the office. She turned and thanked another policeman she passed, pointing to the one in front of her. “Thank you for the escort,” she stated, hinting at something more with a small smile. Shaken up though she was, having a strapping young something take her home gave her old bones comfort. The older policeman shuddered and headed into the Sergeant’s office.  
  
                “We can’t just treat this as a minor civilian issue anymore,” the gruff male reported.  
  
                “This is true, but I’ve done some digging around, _and_ I’ve talked with the owner of the shop in question.” Yorujima brought his attention to his notepad. “Apparently, he uses exotic dyes that may sometimes smell with age. His best advice is to have his customers wash his product with herbal soaps as he doesn’t offer refunds.”  
  
                “Exotic dyes?” Saburouta muttered, crossing his arms. “What’s wrong with the ones we have here? If he did that, then he could afford refunds!”  
  
                “You can’t talk to an artist about sensibly parting ways with their money,” Kojiro grumbled, having experienced that for several reasons.  
  
                “Never truer,” Sergeant Sakihana agreed, slowly nodding his head. He turned his attention to Yorujima, who continued,  
  
                “It’s a curious thing, but we’ll have to advise these complainants of what the owner said. And we’ll have to keep an eye on the shop owner himself.”  
  
                “Does ‘e have a name?”  
  
                “Hmmm,” Yorujima consulted his notes. “He didn’t have a last name that I could pick up on. He simply referred to himself as ‘Tsuruga’.”  
  
Kojiro looked up to him, brows knit together. Sakihana noticed his expression first.  
  
                “I trust you know him?”  
  
                Kojiro nodded his head slowly. “He graduated from this community I visited not too long ago, and I haven’t heard from him since.” He brought a hand up; an arched finger touched his bottom lip. “I’ve sort of wondered what happened to him, but I didn’t think it would lead to something like this."

There was a brief silence. All eyes were on him. Kojiro moved his hand to the side, fanning out his fingers.  
  
                “If it’s possible, I’d like to make a formal request to keep an eye on him. Not to say that we need to guard him, but we need to take a special interest in his business. It’s just a precaution, but I think it’s best to play it safe.”  
  
                “Any reasoning?” Yorujima stated, cutting off Saburouta from speaking. The spiky-haired male narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips.  
  
                “Call it a gut feeling. He came from an odd place, and maybe that misfortune is following him.”  
  
                A scoff. “You really believe in luck?”  
  
                Kojima tipped his hat, standing up. “I’ve seen and believed in stranger things.” To the Sergeant, he stated, “Sir. If I may.”  
  
                “Yes. We’ve enough information here. I’ll leave you all to your findings. Kojiro. Yorujima. Since you two seem to be well informed on this case, you two are in charge. Please back each other up and see that this comes to a safe, satisfactory conclusion.”  
  
                “Sir.”  
  
                Sakihana then turned his gaze to the other two officers who sat at his desk. “Now, for you two…”  
  
Kojiro closed the door as Yorujima exited in front of him. He stared at the ground. Could it be the same Tsuruga? It would be an incredible coincidence if it wasn't. Then again, Kojiro was coming to find coincidences a thing of fiction.  
  
                “Yamada Kojiro…”

The brunet snapped out of his thoughts and looked to his… slightly irritated coworker.  
  
                “I hope you’re not trying to steal this case from under me with this pretended discovery of yours.” He smirked, shifting his weight. “Afraid you won’t be the star?”  
  
                Kojiro stared flatly at the other male. “What are you talking about?”  
  
                A sharp inhale. “Don’t give me that! You know very well what I mean! Do try to contain your jealousy when I take the spotlight from you.”  
  
Yorujima turned and was down the hall before Kojiro found the words to stop him. With a shake of his head, Kojiro instead worried about preparing himself for the journey ahead.

 

\----- -----

 

                “Big bro. Have you seen Shiro around anywhere?”  
  
                “Hm? I ran into him at a tea shop on—”  
  
                “Ah! I knew that was him!”  
  
Aguri reached into her kimono and pulled out a piece of paper. She carefully unfolded it and turned it so her brother could see. He stared at the rather delicate scribbles on a shakily drawn map. The handwriting was nice, but Kojiro knew that it couldn’t be that of his sister’s.  
  
                “I saw him heading down this street with a strange man. He was tall – probably taller than you! – and they talked together like they were old friends.”  
  
                “Well maybe they were.”  
  
                Aguri pouted, shaking her head emphatically. “Old friends, you know. Not like they knew each other for a long time!” She waved her hand in front of her face. Her thoughts had jumbled up and now threatened to spill out into a tangent about a meaningless detail.

                She sat back when Kojiro took the map from her. “Anyway, the other man was talking about how he just got a new kimono and wanted Shiro’s opinion on it. He kept looking at Shiro, frowning a lot and then would go back to talking about his kimono and the dye shop where it was.”  
  
                “Dye shop?” That put the reasoning behind the map into perspective. “So this leads…”  
  
                “I asked the woman at the tea shop to write it for me. She said that that guy is a familiar character. Business hadn’t been the same on her side of town since…”  
  
                Kojiro nodded his head, looking over the map. _'Since this whole thing began,'_ he thought, examining the map as though trying to commit it to his memory.  
  
                Aguri leaned forward, looking a bit more concerned. “Brother. Find Shiro!”  
  
                “I will,” he promised, standing up.  
  
                “I hope he’s not in any big trouble,” the female added, following after him.  
  
                Kojiro sighed. “Knowing him, it’s probably too late to wish any of that now.”  
  
And reasonably enough, it was.


	3. High and Dry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for: emetophobia.

Shiro stared at the ceiling, his long legs stretched in the air. It was hard to him to move left or right, and his arms were trapped underneath his body, pinned between the floor and his back. Even though this was a truly dire situation to anyone else, he could only wonder how he found himself in this situation more often than not. There were other people here but not enough needles to go around. He was thankful for that; he couldn’t stand needles, really. No fear – just didn’t quite care for them. The hanging body nearest him convulsed and spewed out onto the floor underneath. A tube was covered in their sick; the body groaned miserably. There was another sound of detached sobbing, and Shiro scrunched up his nose.

Where he was, it was shadowed, but there was still enough light for him to see what he needed to. He was in a thin stall that was just wide enough to contain his body. His legs were crossed and held up loosely by rather itchy rope. He gazed at it, trying to think if it would break easily or not. He wriggled around, trying to find where there was leeway for him to move or if there was a fence blocking his head. When he tipped back to look, he could see that there was, in fact, something sectioning off his ‘comfy’ little stall. At least it was far enough so he could scoot back and forth half a foot or so. If only he were able to move more freely. He looked around to find places to hide and tuck himself if he needed to. There were deep brown coloured shadows that caused him to avert his eyes.

First thing’s first, he needed to get out of this little area. The lithe male pulled his legs towards himself, testing the generosity of the rope. It was loose enough for him to move his legs, but it didn’t have the give to allow the umbrella maker to curl in towards himself. He arched his back and tipped his head to see where the source of his rope was. There was a heavy counterweight in the center of the room on a circular platform, at least one that was attached to his end. It was tipped to one side. A decent amount of the slack lay coiled underneath it while the rest hung off the edge. He couldn’t make out the other weights to see if they were the same. There were some sitting on the floor with the ropes tied around them. Perhaps that was for the people hanging.

He stopped thinking about the others and looked back to his weight. He pulled his legs again and moved his hips in the confined space. The bag moved but barely. He would have to risk some serious burns to get this to go how he wanted. He closed his eyes and steeled his nerves of his next action. Oh, wait. He quickly checked his feet again, rolling them at the ankles and hearing the clunk-clunk of his geta knocking together. He sighed slowly and once again drew back into himself. A few seconds passed; something rattled. Another miserable moan flitted into the air. Alright, enough of this absolutely dazzling atmosphere. He swung his legs towards his head, locking the pegs of his sandals underneath the bars of the fence. He grit his teeth; his arms dug uncomfortably into the floor, and the rope pulled at his already thin ankles.

The sandbag shifted violently and then rolled off the platform. Shiro’s body jerked painfully. He grit his teeth as he rolled backwards and pulled the fence off of its hinges. His head lifted off the ground, and he stared at the deeply discoloured brown shadows on the floor. The edge of his vision was haunted by something far more unpleasant. Now, he was free from his stall; he was also hanging – and swinging! – upside down. He stared at the ground as he moved swung in a pendular fashion. His ankles were too tight together for him to try to cut the rope with the hidden blade. Shiro clicked his tongue, letting his vision roam around the room as he plotted something else. He would surely have to think of something, or the blood rush would cause him to pass out. Shiro closed his eyes.

               “Whenever you’re ready, 

                               Mr. Policeman…”


	4. Moving Forward

There was a bit of animosity between the two of them, but they were working together just for this one case. Of that, Kojiro was _very_ sure. They needed to interrogate the dye shop owner – maybe they wouldn’t find anything, but it never hurt to check.  Kojiro took a few moments to collect himself as Yorujima knocked on the door. When he heard the sliding noise of entry, the tight-laced policeman turned and followed his coworker inside.

               “We’re sorry to intrude,” Yorujima started, “but it’s very important that we speak with you.”

There was no one in the front, and the two officials looked to each other, silently communicating what to do. An obnoxious sigh soon took their attention. A waif of a man entered into the main room, rubbing his hands on a stained cloth. He turned his head towards the two men, his eyes focusing on Kojiro. The policeman straightened, and Yorujima looked from the owner to Kojiro before the third male spoke.

               “Ah, you’ve been here before,” he said, looking to Yorujima. “Is there something you missed?”

               “Yes. My partner and I would like to ask you about your dyes.” Yorujima motioned to Kojiro, who stepped forward.

               “Afternoon. My name is—”

               “I know,” Tsuruga began, “who you are, officer. More like, I remember.” He bowed, a soft smile on his face. “It’s good to see you again.”

               “Ah.” Kojiro bowed as well. “And you as well.” When they stood, he continued with, “So you started your own shop? Last I remember, you were an artist of some sort.”

               “Ah~ yes, but after Matsukichi disappeared, my motivation changed. You could say… he was my muse.”

               “Muse?”

               Tsuruga nodded his head slightly. “It happens like that – it comes and goes, a good muse, but I’ve made my way here. I was originally going to work under someone else, but things have changed.”

               “It works out that way, I’ve heard.”

Yorujima listened quietly. He didn’t like that this was looking like it was falling under Kojiro’s control, but he let it go. He looked around and brought his gaze back to Tsuruga, observing his overall appearance.

               “I figured we distracted you from your work," he began, happy that he interrupted their catching up. "Were you in the middle of dyeing something?”

               “Actually, no," Tsuraga took the change of topic with ease. "There was a bit of a spill, so I was in the middle of cleaning that up.”

               “If I may… Would it be alright if we saw one of your finished kimonos? We would love to see your work in person.”

               “Is this pertinent to your investigation?” Tsuruga crossed his arms. In spite of his words and demeanor, he smiled slightly.

               Yorujima nodded. “It is actually, and also, I’m interested personally.”

               Tsuruga sighed and motioned for the two to follow him. “This way.”

They went to the left, entering through the doors Tsuruga had first came through. Kojiro couldn’t help but look over his shoulder. Mostly because he wanted to briefly investigate, to make sure they hadn't missed anything. He saw that there were another set of doors that were kept closed. At first, he thought they were there for symmetry or perhaps it was a closet, but he could make out light coming through the panes. Kojiro turned his head back and followed closely behind the others.

Tsuruga led them to a well-lit room. There were nine kimonos set on forms to dry: two to their immediate left, three against the wall to their left, and three more in the upper left corner of the wall in front of them. And there was one set dead in the middle, like a star. It as dyed in tones of wine and purple. The complimenting colours were muted yellow tones. Those weren’t as vibrant as the wine and purple, but it was okay. Overall, the colour scheme had its own charm and beauty.

The dyer placed his right hand against his cheek, staring at the kimono before them. “This is for a rather lavish customer. Very explicit on how he wanted it too. I had to test a lot of these to get these tones the right colours. It was hard to find the blues and all that he needed.”

               “I can only imagine,” Yorujima agreed.

               “Well, I won’t bore you with its tale. These are free to your inspection, officers. I’ve something to attend to.”

They watched him leave, and when the door was closed, the two set to work. There wasn’t an inherent smell to them, but they weren’t sure how long these had been here.

               “Probably done recently,” Kojiro deduced, “especially this center one.”

               “Mn.” Yorujima nodded.

The brown haired policeman reached forward and gingerly touched the kimono. It wasn’t wet, but it had a definite texture against his fingertips. He pressed his lips together and lifted the sleeve, sniffing it carefully. His lips tugged down in a frown, and he let the sleeve fall gracelessly.

               “It smells,” he stated. “There’s a definite odor there, and it stinks.”

               “I’ve heard dyes aren’t usually pleasant, but…” Kojiro walked over and smelled it as well. It was faint to him, but it was definitely there.

When he stood, they looked at each other. They both knew. It wasn’t as though they doubted all of those people’s stories, but now they had concrete evidence. They turned towards the door when it opened. Tsuruga’s pleasant face had tensed; he stared at them tight-lipped before saying,

               “Gentlemen, I’m afraid you have to go.”

And that just made things stranger.


	5. The Collection

               “Surely, we can help you with whatever it is,” Yorujima offered.

               “It’s fine. Honestly, please just leave. I’ll call you again when the investigation merits it,” Tsuraga's voice was both welcoming and dismissive, asserting firmly that he wanted them to leave.

               “Ah, we do have one question about this kimono.” Kojima stepped forward, motioning without looking to the garment.

               “I’ll be sure to answer it – but first—”

               “Why are you in such a hurry?”

               “Something has just come up, and I would like for you—”

There was a thud across the hall, and Tsuruga whipped around, eyes wide as he stared at that closed door. There were two more thuds, like ominous footsteps, and then the door was gone. As it fell to the floor, a wooden tub sailed into the air, spilling red liquid with it. The sudden smell of blood and wretched body odor filled the air. The two policemen flinched away, covering their faces to protect their senses. Tsuruga turned away, not wanting the blood to splash his face. When he looked back, he was wide eyed, enraged, and surprised.

A husky, cut up man held a bin under one arm, and Shiro stepped from behind him, limply letting his right hand rest at his side. He shifted his weight and let his head tip to the other side, smirking at Tsuruga. His gaze drifted over to the other people, his expression changing into that of surprise as well. The dyer gazed at the two battered men before him in horrified anger, keeping himself silent.

               “Officer?”

               “Shiro!" Kojiro stepped into the hall, looking to Shiro. "What are you—hey! Don’t move.”

Tsuruga took the moment to run, trying to get far away from the blood evidence staining his floor. Yorujima was in quick pursuit; Kojiro started to follow after, but he looked to Shiro and the mysterious male first.

               “Will you…?”

               “Go, Officer. We’ll meet up again later.” Shiro smiled, leaning his head against the wall.

               Kojiro nodded and ran after the other two. Shiro’s face then twisted in pain; he let out a small scoff. He lifted up his left ankle. “Shit…” 

The two officials chased their suspect down the hall and out the building. Yorujima yelled at Tsuruga to stop, but of course, that wasn’t going to happen. The brown haired policeman sucked in a breath and ran harder, feet stomping into the ground as he continued to follow the dyer. There was a turn coming up, and there was a crowd coming from down the street. Either way, Tsuruga could be lost by navigating his way out of their sight. There was a chance someone could stop him or that he would run into a dead end, but they didn’t need that risk. Yorujima kept his gaze steady and then pushed off the ground. He leapt forward and then tackled Tsuruga to the ground.

The former artist yelped; they both groaned when they hit the floor. Yorujima’s right arm hurt something fierce, but he kept his hold firm. With a great deal of struggling, Kojiro managed to arrest Tsuruga. Though it was a bit inconvenient, he asked a civilian to run to the station and ask for more help. When backup came, he headed back towards the dye shop. Shiro and the mysterious man he was with were sitting on the ground but still away from the spilled blood. Kojiro, and an officer who followed him, spoke with the two before deciding to take them in for questioning. For the larger man, they decided on taking him to an infirmary of some sort first.

More policemen came, and they were instructed to go down the hall with the busted door. The cut up man explained that there were more people who may have been alive down there. But he wasn’t sure. Shiro vouched for him. The man was thanked for his help and was escorted to a clinic. Kojiro reached his hand down, wanting to help Shiro up. The umbrella maker took it and let out a pained noise when he stood suddenly. Kojiro blinked at him.

               “You’re..?” He glanced down at Shiro’s feet. “Are you hurt? How bad?”

               Shiro laughed briefly. “Might be a sprain, or something.”

               “A sprain?”

               “Yeah, being hung upside down will do that to you.”

               “Hung?! We have to get you to—”

Kojiro, in a fit of justice, hoisted the thinner male up onto his shoulder. And then he instantly froze. Shiro stayed limp, staring at the ground.

               “Shiro.”

               “Ha?”

               “You’re not wearing any underwear…”

 

\------ ------

 

               “Congratulations!” came a chorus of voices.

Kojiro looked up to see his coworkers coming towards him.

               “That was a hell of a case. I can’t believe you did it.”

               “The civilian said you tackled a guy? Is that true?”

               He laughed, walking towards his desk. “Actually, that was all Yorujima. He was the one who caught him. I just made the arrest. Oh. Where is he?”

               “He hadn’t come in yet.”

               “Something about his wrist, I heard.”

               “Oh…” Kojiro looked down, fingers splaying over his desk. “I guess he did get hurt, making a jump like that.”

The door opened again, and Yorujima smiled as the chorus of voices started up again. He made his way through and stood in front of Kojiro. They shared a look. Kojiro looked from Yorujima’s face to his arm, seeing the long bandage that wrapped around his hand, over his wrist, and disappeared under his sleeve, probably going down his arm. Kojiro stood, going to stay something, but Yorujima interrupted him.

               “Congratulations today. You did a good job.”

               A smile. Kojiro shook his head, laughing a bit. “No. You’re the hero here. You did the hard work. So, thank you... for all your hard work.”

Yorujima’s cheeks were a little pink; his expression softened with a bit of confusion before he closed his eyes, smiling. He brought up his wounded hand, pressing it to the back of his head as he leaned back.

               “Aah, I guess I _was_ pretty amazing today. No worries, you’ll catch up soon.”

               “Please overlook my flaws until then.”

They laughed; Yorujima lowered his hand down, feeling good to be recognized, feeling good having the spotlight—even if that meant he had to share it. They turned their attention to the other officers who wanted to know what happened. Kojiro still needed to talk to Shiro to get his side of the story as well, but that was for another day, he supposed. It could wait for now.


	6. Author's Full Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. It took me a while to get this out. I think this is one of the first writing things in a long time that I actually approached as a project. Regardless of that fact, there are still crucial things that I missed. And I'll probably go back and add them in or something. I'm honestly not 100% sure. It still flows, but to me, as the writer, I can feel that there are still seams and gaps that need to be closed. But I'll try to approach those later.

Thanks for reading this story. I love how I’m doing this afterword as though I was the author of the original story, but I’m not. This story is dedicated to a couple of people for getting me to read the manga in the first place. ( ノ´∇｀)ノ I really like Adekan, obviously. I think it’s a great story that’s beautifully drawn with an interesting array of characters. All in all, it can be really strange at times but never in a bad way. 

Onto the story! It took me a while to write this. It took me four or five days – if I remember properly. I barely spend that much time on anything anymore. I struggled a lot because I wanted to capture the right tone, which is hard to do as a writer, I think, but that’s just me. This takes place after Vol. 2 Ch. 2, so it’s very involved from my point of view. 

I really liked Tsuruga, even though he was a short-lived character. Where I am in the story, Vol. 2 Ch. 3, I haven’t seen him make a reappearance or anything, so I’m just doing this on my own. There might be some errors here and there, but I’ve done as much research as I could, and I referenced back on the manga as much as memory would allow. There are some parts of the chapters that literally didn’t go as I wanted, so I might rewrite them with my original intent. I might come back and make a literature omake or something like that, ahaha.

There will be some extra content, once I sort it all out too, so I’ll be involved with this story for a while, even though I’m done. Support Adekan, of course, and try to read the manga to learn more about the characters and this story!

Once again, thank you so much!


	7. About Yorujima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite sectioned under what it is, this isn't of course my original universe. However, I can sort of say with some flexibility that Yorujima is mine? Again, not being 100% sure on this one. Considering I'm more coaxing a character into being who probably already lives there anyway. I had a lot of fun with him and with this project as a whole.
> 
>   
> 
> 
> He's the kind of guy who I can really relate to as far as wanting to do your best and wanting to be recognized for it. I've never really been competitive though. I think that's a trait that has sort of slipped out of me, same as jealousy. But I took what I had and tried to make a very believable character.

English name: Akinora Yorijima  
Japanese name: 夜島・秋野良

       -       About 25 years old, might be 26.  
       -       Tall (~190cm | 6’2)  
       -       Wispy, shaggy, light brown hair  
       -       Bangs never get in his eyes (they’re brow length or so)  
       -       Can be seen as a kiss ass, but he’s just really eager about his job  
       -       Likes to be praised, doesn’t like Kojiro  
       -       Very competitive  
       -       Can actually be a pretty sweet guy  
       -       Gets jealous easily  
       -       Gets upset when he can’t make others (esp. Kojiro) jealous of him  
       -       Partial to grilled fish  
       -       Likes the smell of a woman’s washed skin  
       -       Hates candied peaches (and candies in general!)

 

I like this sort of character, which is funny because I don’t like jealousy at all. I think his jealousy is a lot more controlled. He’s like a child somewhat. He doesn’t like going unnoticed, but he won’t go out of his way to steal the thunder away from someone else. He’ll do what he can in the moment – he wants to have that satisfaction of doing it himself, of earning that thunder, you know. He’s that kind of guy.

There might be a character like this already in the precinct, in fact. I just wanted to create or evoke a person that would already exist in this universe. Someone who is new, but not too new where they would make rookie-ish mistakes. Earlier, Yorujima was referred to as a young upstart, but in reality, he might have been there for a couple of years. I think this might be his first major investigation of this kind. He’s someone who’s used to dealing with other matters, working as support or doling out arrests. For him, this case might have actually started as a demotion considering what he’s used to. 

It was hard forming a name for him, but “Yorujima” was the one that popped into my mind first. Names usually do that. His characters read “yorushima” because “jima” isn’t really something on his own. I think that’s a peculiar thing his parents might’ve done. I’m thinking his mom. He seems like the type whose mother would be like that: “I like this name, so I’m going to keep it like this.”

According to his description, he sounds like a really thin guy, but he’s actually pretty athletic. He eats and works hard, so I think under his uniform is a really attractive body, one used to work and manual labor. I think that’s why he wasn’t really hesitant to tackle Tsuruga and why he wasn’t fazed even though he hurt himself.

Even though he’s overall levelheaded, he still gets pretty jealous and has childlike manners in that regard. He won’t steal the thunder from someone else, but he also wants to be praised for his achievements. And in that, he wants someone to envy him for having that temporary spotlight. He is that kind of guy, after all. I think I fleshed out someone who would be relevant in this world. I have a lot of designs for him in my head, but there’s only one that really sticks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks BloodRaevynn for taking the time to go through my work and catch such silly errors.


End file.
